Assassin in the Neon Jungle
by The Red Celt
Summary: Fill for the k-meme that I did forever ago but forgot to post here: Thane meets Shepard in her back story. I went with renegade, Earthborn FemShep for this one. Hope you like it! (Implied Shrios.)


As he walked down the cramped, dirty streets through the press of people, Thane Krios had a wary eye out for the right type of person. He had spent the better part of two days on this human planet searching for his mark but to no avail—the man was a slippery bastard and always managed to have an armed entourage with him wherever he went. This contract was meant to be clean and untraceable and besides, he wasn't being paid to kill guards.

So he was looking for an in, someone who knew how to play a man like a fiddle and had access to information no one else does. He had used prostitutes in his trade before as informants, spies, and bait as the case arose, and they were incredibly effective so long as they were paid on time. Turning down the inevitable come-on was an annoyance, but one he was willing to put up with.

The night was clear and chill and, best of all, dry this time of year. The cold air wormed into the hooded jacket he wore and nipped along his scales as he made his way through neon-encrusted buildings and down litter-strewn sidewalks. This was a bad part of town, as easily recognizable here as on any planet, and Thane clocked the weapons on each person he passed.

Stinger.

Carnifex.

Bowie knife.

All completely ineffective against him.

He went into a convenience store for a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Those were tools, not for his own consumption; a small question like "Got a light?" could be an icebreaker, or it could mean providing enough of a distraction for him to execute a target. He carried a pack of cigarettes wherever he went.

The lights inside flickered and there was a faint smell of mold, human dirt, and that indescribable yet instantly familiar scent of tired resignation. That smell coated everything down here. He went to the counter and the clerk barely even blinked when he saw Thane's green chin below his hood.

"A pack of menthols."

"Any brand?"

"Whatever is cheapest." He started to rummage through his pockets for his wallet and couldn't find it. He quickly flipped through his memories of the day and couldn't pinpoint the moment he lost it, which meant it had to have fallen out of his pocket at some point or had been stolen, but the latter wasn't possible. He'd have noticed.

Before he could inform the clerk of his dilemma, though, two armed and masked men burst through the door. They shoved Thane aside and aimed down the barrels of their shotguns at the startled clerk who, after a moment, rolled his eyes like a man who has had to go through this scenario many times. Possibly in the same week.

Thane considered doing something about this, but it didn't seem necessary yet. The gunmen were not aiming at him and were inexperienced at handling firearms, and he was pretty sure that as long as the clerk cooperated, this would be over soon enough. At the same time he was analyzing the situation a young girl, no more than maybe fifteen years old, was sidling up to the gunmen with a totally unconcerned air.

"Hey there Dustin, Frank." She leaned on the counter a few feet away and clucked her tongue at the two men, who were considering changing targets all of a sudden. "What did I tell you boys last time?" The girl whipped out a wicked-looking double edged butterfly knife and spun it around until the blade was exposed and nearly touching the man nearest to her. The blazing, righteous anger in her green eyes was so familiar that Thane's breath caught in his throat. She snarled through gritted teeth, "Don't. Fuck. With. My. People."

After a tense moment of indecision during which the girl's blade drew close enough to nick the gunman's neck, they both decided against their plan, lowered their weapons, and left as quickly as they'd come. The clerk breathed a sigh of relief and she turned to him with a warm smile chasing the rage from her eyes. The abrupt shifting of her emotions was throwing Thane off-balance as much as her resemblance to

(_sunset eyes defiant in the scope)_

someone else.

"Hey Chuck, you okay?"

"Am now. I can't afford this shit anymore; this would have been the second time this month." He shook the girl's hand, her slim fingers all but disappearing in the larger man's ham-fisted grip. "Thanks again, hon."

"No problem." She turned to Thane with a suspicious lift of her eyebrows. "You, with me." By the gods, this girl was certainly a fiery little thing—nearly a head shorter than he was, but with a spirit to warm one's hands by. It had been a very long time since he had really noticed another person before, not since . . . well, it had been a long time. So it was with unaccustomed curiosity that he followed her out of the shop and around the corner to a quiet doorway.

"I've been watching you, you know," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and shifting her weight to her back leg. "You've been wandering around this part of the city for hours, always in the same five block radius, like you're looking for something." She stared him down, waiting for him to respond.

"I was . . . searching for a certain type of person." He took her measure again, noting the ragged and dirty clothes, the smudges on her hands, the gauntness of her cheeks. He nodded to himself. "My search may be over, however."

"Oh yeah? What sort of person do you think I am, drell?" That surprised him; not many humans in this part of the galaxy had ever seen a drell and would have had a hard time identifying him based solely on the shadowed lower half of his face that showed beneath his hood.

"The sort who wouldn't mind providing me with information, or being an extra pair of eyes. I will pay you."

"How much?" She was interested now, and he wondered when the last time was she had a good meal. She was terribly thin for a human.

"One thousand credits." It was enough to pay for a rented room, three meals a day, and a little extra spending money on the side for a week. The girl's eyes lit up even though her face remained neutral, and Thane knew he had her.

"What is it you want me to do, exactly?" She relaxed her defensive posture and leaned against the wall while Thane did the same across the alcove from her.

"I am looking for a man, and I need you to help me find him." He pulled a holo-projector out of his pocket and pushed a few buttons, bringing up a glowing image of a portly man in his mid-fifties with short, thinning hair and the expression of a man used to getting his way. The girl frowned and leaned in close, studying the projected image closely.

"What will you do when you find him?" Her voice was low and gritty and the fire, though banked for the time being, was back in her eyes.

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"To me it does. Are you going to kill him?"

Thane hesitated a moment before answering simply, "Yes."

The girl nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Good. That guy is a mean son-of-a-bitch. He's a pimp and a drug dealer, and I've seen him smack his girls around before. If you think you can get rid of him, I'll help you."

"You know him?"

"Only by reputation, but I'm friends with a few of his girls. Give me a day or two to put out some feelers and I'll get you the info you need." They exchanged contact information, and he discovered she lived in an abandoned apartment complex, probably with other homeless children. The thought wouldn't have bothered him before, but now the idea of such a strong-willed person living in squalor like refuse was abhorrent to him.

She started to leave, but turned around just before rounding the corner back the way she'd come. "Oh, hey, I almost forgot." She reached into her pocket and brought out a slim metal case—his wallet. Thane had to clamp his jaws shut to keep from gaping at her; how in the name of Arashu had he missed her hand in his pocket? She tossed it to him with a smirk and a wink, and disappeared into the crowd.

It had only taken her a day to get the address, and Thane handed over her well-earned credits when they met at the same doorway the following night. She slipped the money into her pocket and kept her fist tight around it, as though she expected it to grow legs and run away at the first opportunity.

"So, you gonna be in town long? I could maybe help you out again sometime."

"No, as soon as my work is finished I will be leaving." Her face fell a little at that, though whether from the news of his departure or that of any future payment he wasn't sure.

"Oh, okay. Well, it was nice working with you." She stuck out her hand and he shook it, a small smile curling his lips.

"Likewise. By the way, what is your name?"

"Jane," she said, screwing up her nose at the word, "but I've always hated it. Everyone calls me Shepard."

"Very well. I am called Thane Krios." He bowed slightly at the waist and, after staring at him bemusedly, she copied him. "It was very nice to meet you, Shepard."

"Same here, Thane."

He didn't see her again for a long time, but when he did, he knew her immediately by the indomitable spirit that shone out of her even brighter than her new cybernetic implants. It was not long after that he began calling her "Siha," and he thought there was never another human more deserving of the title than Jane Shepard.


End file.
